


Lavender

by nerdyneed



Series: Pro Gamer Geralt and His OnlyFans Boyfriend [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Geralt is a pro gamer, Jaskier writes erotica and has a dirty OnlyFans, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Rimming, Spanking, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, the quarantine fic no one asked for, they just love each other so much, unnecessary angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyneed/pseuds/nerdyneed
Summary: Off camera, a sweet voice called from the next room. “Hey babe?”“Yeah?” Geralt didn’t look away from his game, but his head tilted instinctively toward the sound.“Could you come help me for a moment?”“Yeah,” he said. He paused the game and looked into his webcam, a small smirk on his lips. “I’ll be right back. My angel beckons me.”ORGeralt is a professional gamer who loves his boyfriend Jaskier, who writes erotica and has a very dirty OnlyFans. Inspired by Twitter.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Pro Gamer Geralt and His OnlyFans Boyfriend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808323
Comments: 46
Kudos: 1247





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by a Tweet from @Saint_Hemlock: "Gamer/streamer Geralt who is super popular and folks are always coming into his streams asking if he knew that his boyfriend was slutting it up and he's like yeah and he looks damn good doing it."
> 
> Full thread here: https://twitter.com/Saint_Hemlock/status/1253487049341992960?s=20 
> 
> So thanks, @Saint_Hemlock. Also I'm so sorry.
> 
> I got wine drunk at 4 PM and wrote this. It turned out way less horny (?) and way softer (!) than I intended.

Geralt sat at his console, headphones clamped over his ears, fully engaged in the game. Every now and then his eyes would flick over to the second monitor, tracking the stream’s live chat. He kept up a steady commentary with his viewers, talking about anything from the actual gameplay to how he was handing quarantine. 

Off camera, a sweet voice called from the next room. “Hey babe?”

“Yeah?” Geralt didn’t look away from his game, but his head tilted instinctively toward the sound. 

“Could you come help me for a moment?”

“Yeah,” he said. He paused the game and looked into his webcam, a small smirk on his lips. “I’ll be right back. My angel beckons me.”

He went into the bedroom Jaskier had called him from. His lover reclined on the bed, a lavender sheet rucked up around him. He was clothed —barely— in a tight pair of black briefs. He looked pleadingly at Geralt with coy blue eyes. 

“I’m in the middle of a stream,” Geralt said, leaning against the doorframe. “If you want me to play with you, you’ll have to wait a few more minutes.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes fondly. “Not that, you tosser.” He held up his digital camera. “I can’t get a good angle.”

Geralt pushed away from the door, admiring the younger man in the soft light coming from the bedside lamp. He took the camera from him, their fingers brushing together out of habit. “Where do you want me?”

Jaskier instructed him to stand on the bed over him, feet planted on either side of his pale thighs. He smiled up at Geralt before arranging himself delicately against the sheet, looking up at the camera from beneath his lashes. 

Geralt snapped some shots, giving directions as he saw fit. He’d done it enough for Jaskier that they both know what worked best on film. “Look to the side.” Jaskier obeyed, stretching so his neck was elongated, on display. After he got some shots of that, Jaskier shifted his gaze to look at Geralt. Not the camera, just at Geralt. Blue eyes startling against dark lashes. “Don’t look at me like that,” Geralt said, unable to stop the fondness creeping in. He dropped to his knees, caging Jaskier in between them. 

Jaskier sat up, a hand on Geralt’s arm to look through the shots together. “Good.” 

“Content?” Geralt asked, handing over the camera and pressing a kiss to his lover’s dark hair. 

“Very.” Jaskier topped his head back to catch Geralt’s lips with his own, humming softly in contentment. 

Geralt pulled back before he could get caught up in Jaskier. “None of that. I’ve got to finish the stream.”

“Fine.” Jaskier pouted and pushed Geralt away good-naturedly. “Leave me cold and alone.”

“You could never be cold in this apartment,” Geralt grumbled. He got off Jaskier and stood, straightening his shirt and track pants. “You keep it hot enough to make a camel sweat.”

“That’s because you insist on staying far away from me. My own personal heater.”

Geralt snorted. “I’m leaving now.”

“Fine.”

Geralt returned to his stream, sinking into his chair with a sigh. “Sorry. His royal highness demanded I humor him for a moment.” He went back to the game without much more comment. 

A few minutes later, his phone lit up beside him with a notification from Jaskier’s OnlyFans. He had a new post. Geralt smirked but didn’t mention it to the stream. 

He finished a round of his game and sat back in his chair to engage with the chat. When he looked, he saw a great deal of angry, all-caps messages directed at a specific viewer. He scrolled up to see what the fuss was about. The comment he saw made him roll his eyes. 

“Poor guy. Probably doesn’t even know his little boy toy is slutting it up in the other room.”

Geralt snorted. This was a common occurrence on his streams, sadly. He liked to stream all sorts of games and drew in an audience of mostly men, but a good deal of women. On occasion, one of the guys would realize burly, straight-passing Geralt wasn’t quite as straight as they thought. A good deal of them somehow managed to find Jaskier’s OnlyFans and tried to use it against him. Geralt didn’t know how they thought it was in any way hurtful. He supported Jaskier’s OnlyFans as much as Jaskier supported his streaming. 

“Yes, I am aware what my boyfriend is getting up to. Why do you think I stepped out a little while ago?” He picked up his drink, not looking at the camera as he took a sip. “It was hard to leave him be to come back here. He looks damn fine, in my opinion.”

The chat blew up with OOOOHHHHs and Sick burrrrns and several other, more lewd comments that simply made him laugh. 

“Are you talking about me?”

Geralt turned as Jaskier set a hand on his shoulder. He was dressed now, sadly, in a grey tank top and a pair of sweatpants Geralt was certain used to be his own, rolled several times at the waist to stay up. He leaned over Geralt’s shoulder, wrapping his arms loosely around him. “Ohhh, saucy!” he exclaimed, reading the comments with a charming blush flooding his cheeks. 

Geralt kissed his bicep where it rested against his head. “Someone asked if I knew you were slutting it up in the other room.”

“Oh, he knew.” Jaskier winked at the webcam. “He helped. He always knows my best angles.”

“You have no bad angles, darling.” 

Jaskier laughed and kissed his cheek before sliding into his lap, resting on his left thigh while his arms still circled him. “What are we playing?”

Geralt explained the concept of the game, knowing Jaskier mainly asked to have an excuse to stay where he was a little longer. “Want to stay here while I play one more round?”

Jaskier nodded, and Geralt started the game. Geralt tried to concentrate on the gameplay, but he found it difficult to do with the most amazing man in the world warming his leg and making his heart lurch in his chest. He nearly died in-game several times when Jaskier laughed at something in the chat. The viewers clearly loved Jaskier. How could they not? He was hot and charming and (most perplexing of all) clearly enamored with Geralt. There was also a non-zero number of people watching who fell into the overlap of Geralt’s and Jaskier’s followers. 

They had a significant following as a couple that had only grown since they moved in together shortly before the nationwide quarantine began. They were managing. They both had steady income for their respective internet followings. When they weren’t working, they were curled on the couch together, reading or watching TV, their legs tangled together whether they planned it or not. Geralt had tried to get Jaskier to play videogames with him, but Jaskier preferred watching him play and giving input. Jaskier, in turn, had offered to let Geralt proofread the book he was writing. Geralt politely turned him down, knowing Jaskier was better off without Geralt getting hot and bothered every few pages at the steamy exchanges his characters had. 

But if Geralt never turned him down when Jaskier offered to read it to him out loud, well. Who could blame him? 

Geralt completed his level and set down the controller. “Well,” he said, wrapping his hands around Jaskier’s waist, unwilling to help himself. “We’d best get going.”

Jaskier made a disappointed sound. He’d been having a long conversation with several of the viewers about something Geralt had already forgotten. Jaskier’s hand was brushing the hair that had come out of Geralt’s bun. It was all he could do not to shiver visibly. “I suppose,” Jaskier said. “We should get dinner on.”

Geralt ended the stream and threw his headphones off, pulling Jaskier closer. He buried his nose in his neck, inhaling his lavender and rosemary shampoo. “Gods, you drive me crazy.”

“What?” Jaskier chuckled. He shifted so he was facing Geralt, straddling his lap fully. He pulled the tie out of Geralt’s hair, digging both hands in once it was falling free around his shoulders. “What have I done this time?”

Geralt ran his hands down Jaskier’s back. “What haven’t you done?”

“I’m sorry if my very essence drives you mad.” He didn’t look very sorry as he leaned closer, brushing his nose against Geralt’s. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You have no idea how sexy you are when you sit here. All hot and… manly.”

Geralt laughed, running his lips along Jaskier’s jaw. “Am I not… hot and manly any other time?”

Jaskier hummed. “That’s the problem.” He tilted his head up, letting Geralt follow the tendons of his neck down to the hollow of his throat. “You’re always perfect.”

Geralt’s breath hitched. He moved up to capture Jaskier’s soft lips in his own. His arms circled him, pulling him tighter. They were both hard in their pants, shifting so they were perfectly aligned enough to rut together. Jaskier broke away with a gasp, smiling so brightly Geralt’s heart nearly stopped. 

“I love you.”

Geralt groaned. No matter how many times Jaskier said it, it still never felt real. He gazed up at Jaskier, knowing his eyes were shining and not caring. “I love you more.”

Jaskier made a soft noise, pulling Geralt back into a kiss with both hands bracketing his face. It had been several days since either of them had shaved, and their stubble rubbed against one another as they kissed. Jaskier’s mouth fell open at a particularly good thrust, and Geralt chased the noise he made past his lips. 

Geralt’s hands crept down the back of Jaskier’s pants, holding him closer by his asscheeks. Jaskier whined at the feeling. Geralt shifted him closer and stood, pulling his lover up with him. Jaskier squeaked, wrapping his legs around Geralt’s hips as he began walking them to the bedroom. “Why does it make me so dizzyingly horny every time you do that?”

Geralt snorted, dropping Jaskier on the bed and pulling his oversized sweats down. “Because you’re a slut for being thrown around.”

“I’m a slut for you,” Jaskier said, more earnest that he probably intended. He helped Geralt pull his tank top over his head, leaving him in the black briefs again, before he helped Geralt out of his own shirt. He’d left the lavender sheet on the bed, which Geralt was dimly thankful for. Less clean-up later. He dropped his pants before crawling on top of Jaskier. 

They lost themselves in kisses before Jaskier squirmed away to reach for the table beside their bed. Unable to help himself, Geralt plastered himself on top of him, biting at his ear. “No condom. I want to fill you up.”

Jaskier made a helpless sound and grabbed the half-empty bottle of lube, passing it back to Geralt before tucking his arms around a pillow, settling himself on his stomach. Geralt set the lube aside, kissing down Jaskier’s back, lingering at his ribs, where Geralt knew he was sensitive. He scraped his teeth against the skin enough to watch his younger lover shiver before moving down to the waistband of his briefs. 

“Lift up,” he said.

Jaskier levered himself on his knees, shifting with Geralt to help him wiggle out of the briefs. Geralt settled himself between his spread thighs once they were gone, taking in the sight before him. They’d been together for months before they moved in together, and they had been fucking almost nonstop in the weeks they had been stuck in the apartment together. Still, every time Jaskier bared himself like that, it took Geralt’s breath away. 

He was still amazed by how much he loved the scrawny, beautiful writer in his arms. 

Unable to stop himself, he licked into Jaskier’s crease, relishing in the high-pitched moan he got in return.

“Geralt,” he gasped, equal parts pleasure and surprise. 

Geralt hummed, making Jaskier’s hips twitch away. Geralt slung an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. “Hold still.”

Jaskier whined in response. Geralt smothered a grin against his hole. For how difficult he pretended to be, Jaskier was incredibly easy to please. 

He licked into his hole, feeling it loosen under his attention. They’d fucked earlier, while thin morning light drifted through the curtains, Jaskier’s leg thrown over his hip, both of them whispering endearments. Jaskier’s moans now sounded just as sweet as those endearments had. 

“Geralt, please. More.”

Helpless to obey, Geralt found the bottle of lube where he’d discarded it and coated his fingers liberally. Jaskier constantly complained at how much lube he used, saying he liked a little burn, but Geralt couldn’t stand the thought of actually hurting him, beyond the little stinging bites and slaps he gave.

Jaskier took the first two fingers happily and easily, his back arching beautifully against the pleasure. Watching the working of the muscles in his back, an idea came to Geralt. “How many times can you cum for me tonight?”

Jaskier made a helpless sound into the pillow. Geralt watched him lift his head and twist around to see him. “How hard are you willing to try?”

Geralt grinned. He twisted his fingers and Jaskier moaned loudly, burying his face in the pillow once more. He watched his shoulders roll in pleasure, unable to stay still as Geralt’s fingers pressed unrelentingly against his prostate. He choked on a gasp of Geralt’s name. Geralt watched him fondly as his knees slipped against the sheet, trying to squirm away from the sensations. He added a third finger just to hear the whine that fell from him.

“S-slow. Slow down,” he gasped. One of his hands slid down to grasp Geralt’s wrist as it worked him.

Geralt grabbed the hand and shoved it above his head. “Hold onto the headboard. Try to interrupt one more time and I’ll have to tie you down.”

Jaskier laughed shakily. “Is that a promise?”

Geralt tried to glare at him, but he failed miserably. “Hands. Headboard. Now. Behave yourself, Jask.”

“Yes, sir.”

Geralt smiled as he watched his lover’s hands clench tight around the slats in the headboard. He stretched his fingers wide in reward, relishing in the strained moan he got for it. “If you’re good, I might go easy on you,” he said, tone as conversational as he could make it. “And before you say you like it when I don’t go easy on you, remember what happened the last time you disobeyed me.”

Jaskier shivered at the memory but nodded obediently. 

“I’m going to make you cum like this,” he murmured. Jaskier made a noise torn between agreement and disappointment. “Then you’re going to cum on my cock. You’ll obey me the whole time or I won’t let you cum for the next week.”

“Please.”

“Please not let you cum for a weak?”

Jaskier shook at his teasing. “Geralt please. Please let me cum. Do whatever you want with me, I don’t care. Just let me cum.”

Geralt smirked. “My pleasure.” 

He curled his fingers down, hooking against his rim as he worked the younger man’s prostate. Jaskier squeaked, his hips shifting. Geralt held him tighter with his free hand, halting his movement with a silent command. His thumb pressed against his perineum, massaging the prostate from the outside. 

Jaskier gasped. “Oh gods, oh gods, Geralt,” he babbled. “Please, please, please. Too much, too—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, my dear.”

Jaskier whined, hunching his shoulders as much as he could without letting go of the headboard. He didn’t complain any more. Geralt felt heat build in his gut at the obedience. 

“You ready, baby?”

“Geralt, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please touch my cock, Geralt. I’m so close, please.”

“No,” Geralt said. He felt Jaskier begin to shake under him. “You’ll cum just like this, with me fingering your gorgeous little hole. Be good for me, Jaskier. Don’t you want to be good?”

Jaskier let out a sob. Geralt rolled his fingers once more and listened to Jaskier’s cry as he let go, spilling his seed onto the sheet below him. He kept moving his fingers as Jaskier’s breaths evened out, little moans escaping him with each exhale. He tucked his face tighter against the pillow, hips twitching in earnest trying to get away from Geralt’s relentless fingers. Still, he never complained, gasping as Geralt worked his sensitive prostate.

“Good boy,” Geralt cooed after a few moments, finally stilling his fingers and taking them out. Jaskier’s shoulders relaxed. He turned his head to press his cheek against the pillow. His face was red with exertion and pleasure. His blue eyes were hazy as he stared at nothing, panting for breath. Geralt ran his clean hand up his side, feeling him shiver. He eased him onto his side, relieving the pressure from his knees. “You did well. Do you need a minute?”

“No,” he said, surprisingly quickly. He looked at Geralt then, pupils blown wide. “I want more. I want you, Geralt.”

Geralt took a deep breath and stooped to kiss his boyfriend. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Shut up. I can’t take you when you’re all sweet and mushy.”

“I recall you once told me you could take me anytime, anywhere.”

“Gods, shut up, shut up.” He wrapped his arms and legs around Geralt, pulling him in.

Geralt shut up.

A few moments of shuffling and a barely successful attempt to find the lube later, and Geralt was sliding into Jaskier, inch by inch until they were both shaking. Geralt let out a guttural sound, dropping his head to press a line of kisses up Jaskier’s shoulder. “I think you get tighter every time I fuck you.”

Jaskier snorted. “I think you’re just a fucking mountain of a man.”

“Still.” Geralt worked his way back up, holding himself on his elbows. Their eyes met, soft with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

“Fuck me.”

“Always.”

Geralt shifted back up onto his hands, his hair falling into his face to brush against Jaskier’s shoulders, and pulled out. He pushed back in, slow but hard, forcing a ragged breath past Jaskier’s lips. His cock, wet with his first release, twitched against his taut stomach. 

Geralt sat back, hooking Jaskier’s thighs over his arms, and picked up the pace. Each thrust jostled Jaskier, his arms flung out to his sides. His hair haloed around his head, eyes unfocused as he stared at some point past Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt touched his chin, turning him to look at him head-on. “What’s so interesting behind me, hmm?”

Jaskier swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slowly. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, as if he’d been sucking cock for an hour. “Sometimes I can’t look at you.”

Geralt slowed his thrusts. “Why’s that?”

Jaskier blinked slowly. “You make me.” He broke off to laugh wetly. “You make me feel so much. You’re looking at me with those –those beautiful eyes of yours. And you love me and I just—”

To Geralt’s dismay, Jaskier burst into tears. He moved to pull out, but Jaskier caught him by the arms. 

“No, no. Stay. Please. You feel so good. I just—gods, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Geralt said, understanding. He ducked to kiss the tears away. “You’re gorgeous. Like this. And all the time. I’ll stop looking at you if that makes you more—”

“Never stop looking at me.” The tears had stopped, but Jaskier was still looking at him with luminous eyes. 

“I won’t.” Geralt started moving again, feeling a lurch in his gut when he noticed Jaskier’s cock hard and leaking again. “Feel good, baby?”

Jaskier’s eyes slipped closed, tears drying on his cheeks as he let out a laugh. “So good, Ger. So, so good.”

That nickname, unwelcome from anyone else, sent a rush of heat to his cheeks. To hide it, he ducked his head, thrusting harder just to hear Jaskier whine his name. Stubby fingernails dug into Geralt’s arms as Jaskier arched against him. “Still want to cum again, Jask?”

Jaskier was nodding before he could finish. “Please.”

Geralt wrapped a hand around his leaking cock. Jaskier jumped and gripped his arms tighter at the contact. His lips pressed together in an effort to quiet the whines leaking from his mouth. Geralt’s other hand grabbed his chin again. “No. Let me hear you, my darling. I want to hear how I’m making you feel.”

Jaskier’s mouth opened, several shaky breaths passing his lips before Geralt twisted his hand around the head of his cock. His back arched off the bed, a soft moan spilling past his lips as every inch of his body shook. Still sensitive from his first orgasm, he bit out a choked noise. 

“You’re so perfect, Jaskier,” Geralt grumbled. “So good and tight around my cock. Look so pretty stuffed to the brim with me.”

“Close,” Jaskier breathed.

Geralt groaned in response. He was getting close, too. He wanted Jaskier to come again before him. “What do you want, baby?”

“I—I want,” Jaskier stopped, letting out a groan. Then he flung his arms around his neck and flipped them over with unexpected fervor. He settled on top of Geralt’s hips, hands braced on his chest. He slipped Geralt’s cock back into him, both of them hissing at the contact.

Geralt huffed out a groan, hands clenching Jaskier’s thighs where they braced him. Jaskier set a bruising pace, faster than Geralt had been going. He let out desperate whimpers with every thrust, his breath catching when Geralt’s cock hit a particularly nice angle. 

“Touch me,” Jaskier begged. “Please touch me.”

Geralt obeyed, wrapping a thick hand around Jaskier’s weeping cock. They both moaned when the action caused him to clench down around Geralt. Geralt dragged his thumb over the head of his cock. Jaskier slowed to a steady grind, whining when the motion dragged Geralt’s dick across his prostate.

“Cum for me, Jask. Cum for me, baby.”

Jaskier yelped, feeling his body clamp down, spurts of cum pumping across Geralt’s heaving chest. Geralt’s free hand tightened where it had landed on his hip. Through the shockwaves of his orgasm, Jaskier distantly hoped it would bruise. Jaskier gasped as Geralt’s thrusts sped up, encouraging him with his hands brushing across his shoulders and the heat of his gaze.

Geralt shuddered and grunted as he came deep inside Jaskier. The brunet shuddered as he felt the heat of his lover’s release filling him. He clenched down to milk as much of it as he could. 

When Geralt was spent, Jaskier collapsed on top of him, uncaring of the semen growing cold between them. He felt dizzy, high on the feel of his boyfriend’s skin against his own as their heartbeats synced and returned to normal. He tucked his head into Geralt’s shoulder, uncaring that his sweaty hair was sticking to them both.

Geralt shifted under him, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting his softening cock deeper into Jaskier.

“Ah,” Jaskier gasped, scrambling to sit up again, but Geralt held them tightly together. “Enough, Geralt! I can’t—”

“Hmm,” Geralt grunted, ceasing his thrusts. “I would threaten to make you cum again for disobeying me and taking your hands off the headboard, but.” He sighed, tipping his head back as Jaskier began running his hands through it again. “I don’t think either of us are capable right now.”

Jaskier smirked against Geralt’s jaw. “I’m sorry for disobeying you, sir.”

Geralt’s cock gave a valiant twitch before slipping out, leaving Jaskier’s hole wet and empty. He slapped Jaskier’s thigh lightly. “Give me a half hour and I’ll make you pay for that.”

Jaskier propped himself up on Geralt’s chest. “Promise?”

Geralt looked at him fondly. His dark hair was sticking up in every direction. His eyes were drooping but sated. He rested his chin on his crossed arms on top of Geralt’s chest, legs stretching out to align with his own. Geralt reached up and smoothed down his hair. “You’re beautiful.”

Jaskier snorted, a blush rising to his cheeks again. “That’s not an answer to my question.” In response, Geralt rolled them over, settling Jaskier on his back as he stood. Jaskier sat up. “Where are you going?”

“Calm down,” Geralt said, already returning to the bed with Jaskier’s camera in his hands. “You look good like this. I’d like to take some pictures.”

Jaskier hummed, stretching his arms above his head. “Go right ahead.”

His skin was mottled pink in places, the outline of Geralt’s fingers on his hips. Cum streaked from his pubic hair all the way up to his chest, smudged from where he had been pressed up against Geralt. A dark love bite shone on his neck, but Geralt didn’t really remember putting it there. He’d gotten into the habit of leaving them in places Jaskier could more easily hide under his clothing in public. But they had nowhere to be. Geralt was maybe taking advantage of that. 

He took pictures of every square inch of him, half of them blurred or out of focus. The sheet under them was no longer artfully draped like it had been for Jaskier’s solo shoot, but that didn’t matter —Jaskier wasn’t artfully draped either. He was too tired to try to make a show. But he was beautiful the way he was, lazy and sated, dripping Geralt’s cum.

“Turn over,” Geralt said, a hand on his thigh.

Jaskier obeyed, hitching one leg up and cuddling up to his pillow again. His eyes slipped closed until he felt Geralt spreading his cheeks to watch the cum leak out of him. He moaned tiredly. “You’re a filthy man, Geralt.”

Geralt didn’t disagree, taking a few shots of his raw hole. As he watched, Jaskier flexed and a fresh drip of cum leaked out. Geralt bit back a groan and leaned down to swipe his tongue up his crease, collecting as much of his own cum as he could.

Jaskier didn’t move, but he did whine into the pillow.

“I know,” Geralt said, unable to keep himself from biting one of his asscheeks before he pulled away. He took a few more pictures, liking the red marks his teeth made on the otherwise perfect flesh. He put the camera away then slipped into the bathroom to get a warm cloth. He wiped down Jaskier first, rolling him onto his back to clean up the cum, then wiped himself as well. He stripped the lavender sheet from the bed and threw it in a pile on the floor with the cloth before collapsing back into bed with his love.

Jaskier snuggled further into his chest, murmuring, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Jaskier laughed tiredly through his nose before growing serious. “You don’t really care about my OnlyFans, right? Like you don’t care that I’m… slutting it up?”

Geralt pulled him closer, not caring about how hot the apartment was. “It’s not that I don’t care. I love it, Jask. You’re gorgeous. I know it makes you happy when people can enjoy it too. Besides, no one else gets to have you like I do. They can look, but they can never touch. They’ll never know how sweet your lips taste or how hot your body feels pressed against theirs. Only I do. I know you’re mine.”

Jaskier shuddered, hiding his face against Geralt’s collarbone. Geralt ran his hands through his hair while he waited for him to respond. Then Jaskier laughed softly. “Gods. You know, when I met you, I thought you were the silent, brooding type.”

“I am,” Geralt said.

“You’re better with words than you lead people to believe.”

Geralt hummed. “Other people don’t need to know things like you do.”

“Know things.” Jaskier snorted. “There’s the grumpy, monosyllabic pro gamer I fell in love with.”

Geralt ran his fingers down Jaskier’s back again to feel him melt against him. “Go to sleep, Jask.”

Jaskier sighed, settling down once more. They were silent for a few minutes. Geralt thought Jaskier had gone to sleep before he grunted, “Fuck.”

“What?”

Jaskier looked up at him, squinting through tired, pouty eyes. “We never actually made dinner.”

Geralt just laughed and kissed him on the forehead.


	2. Four Days Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something had changed between them in the past few days. 
> 
> It wasn’t bad, per se. It was just.
> 
> Different.
> 
> When Jaskier would crawl into Geralt’s lap, Geralt would just pat his back and push him gently away. When Jaskier would climb into the shower with Geralt, Geralt would only laugh and wash Jaskier’s hair for him. When Jaskier knelt before him on the couch, kissing up his thighs, mouth watering for his cock, Geralt would pull him up, kiss him, and get up to do something else. When Jaskier, that very morning, had slipped his hand into Geralt’s boxers before he was fully awake, Geralt had caught his hand, kissed his knuckles, and rolled out of bed to make tea.
> 
> Jaskier was torn between being insecure about their relationship and being bonkers horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would apologize but I'm not sorry.
> 
> @kayte_overmoon on Twitter

_Post from Dandelion: Four Days Ago_

_He did say I look damn fine… [three photo attachments]_

Jaskier stared at the photos for what was probably the fiftieth time since he’d posted them. He hadn’t edited them before uploading them. Geralt wasn’t a professional photographer, but he really did know Jaskier’s best angles. 

He hadn’t been dolled up in the pictures, so he didn’t doll them up any more. He picked the three best ones: a close-up of the dark hickey on his neck, his chin tipped delicately to the side; a wider shot of his cum-stained chest; and his favorite, a perfectly centered shot of Geralt’s teeth print on his ass, his crease slicked with Geralt’s cum, his soft dick still tucked safely out of frame. He loved the signs of Geralt’s ownership of him. Loved that he was Geralt’s. Looking at them, at the reminder of his possession even days later (though the hickey had barely faded) made heat curl in his gut.

Usually, when he was feeling hot, he would go crawl into Geralt’s lap and kiss his neck until he felt those strong arms gripping his waist. 

Usually.

But something had changed between them in the past few days. 

It wasn’t bad, per se. It was just.

Different.

When Jaskier would crawl into Geralt’s lap, Geralt would just pat his back and push him gently away. When Jaskier would climb into the shower with Geralt, Geralt would only laugh and wash Jaskier’s hair for him. When Jaskier knelt before him on the couch, kissing up his thighs, mouth watering for his cock, Geralt would pull him up, kiss him, and get up to do something else. When Jaskier, that very morning, had slipped his hand into Geralt’s boxers before he was fully awake, Geralt had caught his hand, kissed his knuckles, and rolled out of bed to make tea.

Jaskier was torn between being insecure about their relationship and being bonkers horny.

He knew Geralt loved him. He had the evidence drawn all over his body and written in every glance Geralt threw his way. Maybe the shiny of their relationship was wearing off for Geralt. It certainly hadn’t for Jaskier. Every time he looked at his lover, he admired the span of his shoulders, the pieces of hair falling out of his bun, the play of his biceps when he cooked dinner for them both (Jaskier was truly awful in the kitchen, they’d both learned, so Geralt did the majority of the work). He wanted to jump him every time they passed each other in the hallway. The heat was certainly there for Jaskier. But was it for Geralt?

Contrary to popular belief, relationships were not all about sex for Jaskier. He could post dirty pictures of himself on OnlyFans and still enjoy fighting with his boyfriend over politics. He fell in love with Geralt’s heart as well as his body. He enjoyed being around him. He could have a fulfilling relationship without all the sex.

Couldn’t he?

Jaskier sighed, locking his phone. Geralt had just started his first livestream of the day. He was playing some FPS game with several numerals at the end of the title. It sounded cool, but Jaskier was happy to leave him to his devices. Jaskier sat on the couch and watched him across the room. Feeling Jaskier’s eyes on him, he glanced over and gave him a wink. Jaskier smiled back and turned to his computer. 

He had a video conference with his editor the next morning, and he was still several thousand words short of his goal. He should have been writing. Instead, he was brooding hard enough to put even Geralt to shame. That, and he had an incognito window open, Googling “how to get my boyfriend to have sex with me.”

Gods, this was juvenile. 

Half the articles he found were queries by 14-year-old girls having identity crises. The other half... well. They were creative, he gave them that.

He rolled his eyes at himself. He was a grown man, dammit. He could handle a little rejection, no matter how much it stung. He was about to shut his laptop when an article caught his eye.

_“People are walking in naked for their partners, and these reactions are PRICELESS.”_

Jaskier hummed. Well. That’s a thought.

He scrolled through the article briefly before looking again at Geralt, still immersed in his game. He probably wouldn’t notice if Jaskier slipped out of the room.

Jaskier set aside his computer and stretched, nonchalant. He stood and made his way to the bedroom.

A few minutes later, he stood naked in front of their bedroom mirror. He contemplated digging into his underwear drawer for a pair of lacy briefs he knew Geralt liked. Once upon a time, Jaskier had been in the middle of a live show, wearing a pair of emerald green lace shorts, chatting innocently with his viewers, when Geralt had walked in. He’d stood at the door for the better part of a minute before shutting Jaskier’s laptop and licking his hole through the shorts. They hadn’t lasted long. Geralt clearly adored them. 

But that wasn’t the point. He wanted Geralt to adore him again.

He took a breath and opened the door.

Geralt was leaning forward in his chair, talking to the chat as he worked through the game’s campaign. Jaskier caught his attention with a quiet clearing of his throat. Geralt hummed in response, still focused on his game.

“Geralt.”

Geralt turned to look at him and stopped speaking to his audience mid-sentence. A rare flush took to his cheeks as he stared across the room at Jaskier, safely out of view of Geralt’s camera. “Jaskier,” he breathed.

“Yes, darling?”

Geralt cleared his throat and looked away hastily. “I’m working, love.”

“I know.” Jaskier shifted, jutting out his hips casually. “You don’t have to be, though.”

Geralt looked at him again, his gaze straying into familiar territory. “Fuck.”

Jaskier lowered his voice so it wouldn’t be picked up by Geralt’s mic. “That was my intention.”

Geralt growled and threw off his headphones, crossing the room in a flash to scoop Jaskier up in his arms. He barreled into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them. He threw Jaskier on the bed, crawling on top of him before the bedsprings even stopped bouncing. He hovered over Jaskier, arms bracketing him on either side. When he continued to stare, not touching him, Jaskier started squirming.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asked.

“Waiting for you to bloody touch me already.”

Geralt gripped his arms, pushing them above his head, halting his wiggling with his sudden display of strength. He sat on Jaskier’s thighs, effectively halting any movement beyond clenching his fists. “No. What are you _doing_?”

Jaskier huffed a breath. His lover’s weight on top of him was comforting and tantalizing, but he showed no signs of giving in. He bit back a whine. “Geralt, you haven’t touched me in days. I need you. Want to feel your body against mine, want to feel you inside me, want to feel your hands on me. Please, Geralt. I’ve been good.”

Geralt studied him, not unkindly, but certainly with a bit of detachment. He looked at Jaskier so long, insecurities began gathering in his head, blocking out his arousal.

“Do you truly not want to touch me?” Jaskier asked, voice much softer than he intended. “Geralt, do you not want me?”

Finally, Geralt’s expression softened. He let go of Jaskier’s wrists to caress his cheek, fondness swimming in his eyes. “Of course I want to touch you, dear heart.” Jaskier opened his mouth to complain further, but Geralt went on. “But you disobeyed me last time.”

Jaskier paused, mind working. “What?”

Geralt’s hand had traveled down to his neck, resting there with gentle pressure. “Last time I fucked you,” he started. Heat gathered in his gut again at the familiar edge in Geralt’s voice. “I told you to keep your hands on the headboard. I said there would be consequences if you disobeyed me. You let go, didn’t you? And do you remember the consequences?”

Jaskier gulped, nodding. His arousal was back in full force. “You said… you said you wouldn’t let me cum for a week.”

Geralt hummed, stroking the line of Jaskier’s neck, watching goosebumps rise in his wake. “And how many days has it been?”

“F-four.”

“And what does that mean?”

Jaskier gulped. “I can’t cum for three more days.”

Geralt planted his arm on the bed again, eyes searing into Jaskier’s. “Is that okay with you? I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better.”

Jaskier resisted the urge to squirm again. “I—I just felt like you didn’t want me anymore.”

“Baby,” Geralt sighed, sinking down to kiss Jaskier’s forehead. “I could never not want you. I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise. It’s been hell the past few days, pulling away from your touch.”

Jaskier moved to touch Geralt but stopped before he could grab his biceps. He waited for Geralt to nod before grabbing onto him, fingers digging in. “I don’t know if I can go three more days.”

Geralt laughed. “Living together has made you insatiable.”

“I’ve always been insatiable,” Jaskier snorted. “You just weren’t around to see it before.”

“Maybe we can come to a compromise,” Geralt said, leaning forward to brush his nose against Jaskier’s, teasing a kiss without granting it.

“What’s that?” Jaskier replied, attention split between his words and the way their lips brushed when they spoke.

“Instead of three days.” Geralt pressed their bodies fully together, his clothes brushing against Jaskier’s bare flesh. “You’re not allowed to cum until I have cum three times.”

Jaskier’s eyes flashed open. “But—”

Geralt sat back. “Is that okay with you?”

Jaskier chewed on his lip, contemplating. Geralt’s recovery time was much slower than his own. In the time they’d been together, the most times Geralt had come in one sitting was twice. It would take time for Geralt to cum three times. Maybe a few hours. Maybe the rest of the evening.

But it was better than waiting three more days.

Jaskier nodded, holding back a sigh. It would be worth it to watch Geralt fall apart.

Geralt grinned, as feral as Jaskier had ever seen him. He began to regret his decision a bit, only in the best way. “Go get your ring,” Geralt told him.

He scrambled to obey, yanking open the drawer of their bedside table so eagerly the table tipped a little before righting itself again. He grabbed his cock ring and lube, giving them to Geralt as he crawled back on the bed. Geralt ruffled his hair in reward. They knelt together on the bed, eye-to-eye. 

“Ground rules,” Geralt began seriously. “Don’t cum until I tell you to. You can touch me, but only when I let you.” Jaskier pouted a little at that. “Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good. Is there anything you don’t want?”

Jaskier thought for a moment. “Mmm. Just the usual, I think.”

“Okay.” Geralt dragged a finger across Jaskier’s collarbone, a smirk pulling at his lips. “How about a little pain?”

Jaskier grinned. “Please.”

Geralt laughed softly before leaning in to finally, _finally_ kiss him. Jaskier kept his hands pressed against his own thighs, not knowing if he was allowed to touch but not wanting to pull away to ask. Geralt’s hands slipped around his back, pulling him closer while his touch sent shivers up Jaskier’s spine. He guided Jaskier’s hands up to press against Geralt’s chest. Their mouths worked together in a familiar rhythm, an even give-and-take they would never tire of. Jaskier lost himself for a few moments, hands stroking softly over his lover’s chest. Geralt’s hands on his cock quickly brought him back to the moment with a gasp. 

He broke the kiss and tipped his forehead against Geralt’s to watch the way Geralt stroked him softly before slipping the cock ring over his shaft and securing it around his balls. Jaskier whined softly in the back of his throat, his hands inching down in a half-hearted effort to take it off. Geralt caught his hands and kissed his temple, a small chuckle bubbling between them.

“I thought you wanted to be good for me.”

Jaskier nearly whined again. “I do,” he breathed. “It’s just been so long since you’ve touched me.”

Geralt pulled back, laughing in earnest. “It’s been four days, Jaskier.”

“So?”

Geralt smothered his next chuckle against Jaskier’s neck, causing shivers to run through him again. He nearly twitched away at his boyfriend’s lips on the sensitive skin beneath his ear but held himself still. Geralt mumbled something containing the words _insatiable_ and _tart_. Then he shoved Jaskier so he landed indelicately on his back.

“Hey!”

“Get off the bed.” Geralt shifted so he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt off in an easy movement. Jaskier scrambled to stand in front of him. “Kneel.” Lust hit Jaskier like a bus, weakening his knees so he fell in a heap at Geralt’s feet. Geralt smirked, reaching out to stroke his hair, looking pleased at his sudden lack of composure. “Good. I want you to suck me off. Go slowly. We have time to spare, after all.” He hooked his thumb under the waist of his sweatpants, and Jaskier’s eyes slid to the extra skin it revealed. Geralt’s other hand on his chin brought his attention back to his face. “Patience, love.”

If it wasn’t for the fear of not being allowed to cum –or even touch Geralt—for any longer than necessary, Jaskier would have bit him. As it was, he nodded obediently and slid eager hands up Geralt’s thighs, feeling the strong muscle under his pants. The weight of his lover’s hands on him left as he reached the waistband. Geralt shifted back on the bed, lifting himself so Jaskier could remove the sweatpants and boxers in one pull.

The first time they’d slept together, Jaskier had genuinely almost passed out when Geralt took off his pants. Jaskier was no small man –he certainly never had complaints about his size from previous lovers. He and Geralt were the same height, though Geralt had nearly twice his muscle mass and could easily throw him through a wall if he so desired. Geralt was, to put it delicately, well endowed. Even now, months into their relationship, Jaskier’s breath caught as he wrapped a hand around Geralt’s cock, his middle finger just barely meeting his thumb. Once, after Geralt had rung orgasm after orgasm out of him until he was gasping and his cock twitched out dry, Jaskier had waxed poetic about Geralt’s cock. He had barely been conscious at that point while he mouthed wet kisses along Geralt’s straining length. Geralt recalled later that Jaskier had called his member “statuesque.” He hadn’t lived that down.

Jaskier stroked him a few times, unable to resist despite knowing the dry slide of his hand would start to chafe soon. He didn’t keep it up for long, choosing to lean forward and lick a sloppy stripe up the underside. Geralt let out a deep groan. He looked up the length of Geralt’s chest to meet his eyes while he continued moistening the whole length. Geralt’s keen eyes watched him working, soft beneath the obvious pleasure. 

Once upon a time, Jaskier had teased Geralt about being able to be anything other than a soft dom. Indignant, Geralt had tried to prove otherwise. Later, with Jaskier’s hands tied to the headboard and his ankles on Geralt’s shoulders, Geralt got that same soft look in his eye. Jaskier had exclaimed, “Aha! That! That’s why you can’t _not_ be a soft dom. You always look at me like that.” Geralt had rolled his eyes, biting back a remark about Jaskier’s naive view of BDSM, and bent him in half to whisper, “That’s because I love you so much,” against his lips.

It hadn’t been the most romantic first declaration of love Jaskier had ever heard, but it had certainly been his favorite.

With that look in his eyes still, Geralt fisted a hand in Jaskier’s hair. Without a word, Jaskier knew that was his sign to keep going, and he slipped the tip of Geralt’s cock between his lips. 

They let out a groan in unison. Jaskier loved the taste of Geralt’s precum on his tongue, knowing it was him who worked Geralt up so much. He caressed the head gently. His hands slid back up under Geralt’s thighs, feeling them twitch in pleasure. He knew they would have to take it slow to keep Geralt from getting worn out.

Geralt seemed content to let Jaskier work at his own pace, head tipped back, arching gently into his lover’s touch. Jaskier sealed his lips around the tip of Geralt’s cock, sucking softly before easing further down. He pulled back after an inch or two, making sure the way was slicked before he continued. Then he dipped his head down again, going only marginally further than before, and pulled back again. He kept on until the familiar shape of Geralt’s cock pressed against the back of his throat.

He’d been confident in his cocksucking skills before he’d gotten with Geralt, but there was a period of training in those first few weeks where he learned to take all of Geralt down his throat. The first time he’d done it successfully, Geralt came in his mouth before he even fully pulled back to cough. Even now, the clench of Jaskier swallowing around him made Geralt’s hand fist in dark hair even harder than before. 

“So good, Jaskier,” he breathed. Jaskier felt his stomach clench where his nose pressed against it, buried in his thick pubic hair. He held that position for as long as possible before pulling back, gasping in a wet breath as strings of spit hung between his mouth and Geralt’s cock. His hand wrapped around the base, squeezing just to tease before dragging it up and down, slicked by the now abundant saliva gathered there. Jaskier watched Geralt’s amber eyes slip shut at the sensation and leaned back down to flick against the head just to see the furrow in his brow deepen in pleasure. 

Content that his lover was enjoying himself, Jaskier dipped back down to begin properly sucking him off. His mind blanked out. The familiar motions, the friction of skin against his lips, even the subtle yet comforting scent of Geralt’s sweat mixed together into a heady amalgam of lust. He felt the head in his body rising as he continued, Geralt’s reactions spurring on his arousal. His cock hung between his spread thighs. Logically, he knew he could scoot a few inches to either side and rut against one of Geralt’s legs, but he didn’t care for the punishment that would surely follow. So, he let his cock be, hyperaware of every valiant twitch or throb in time with Geralt’s moans. 

After a time, the hand in his hair tightened, pulling him back. His neck arched, looking at Geralt desperately from under his lashes. He knew he must have been a sight: mouth red and spit-slicked, eyes feverish, panting as if he’d just run to the nearest convenience store and back. Geralt looked at him with dark eyes. His free hand took hold of his dick, giving it a slow stroke and tapping the head against Jaskier’s bottom lip. “Where do you want it?”

Jaskier blinked, mind working slower than usual. Then he nodded before realizing Geralt hadn’t asked a “Yes” or “No” question. “In my mouth,” he gasped. “Please.”

The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticked up into a grin. His hand slid from Jaskier’s hair to his jaw, holding it in a tight grip to keep him still with his mouth open. Jaskier sat taller, shifting eagerly on his knees. His hands inched back up Geralt’s thighs.

Geralt tsked. “Hands by your sides, slut.”

Jaskier choked on a moan, hands flying obediently to his sides. He desperately wanted something to hold onto, to keep him grounded. He settled for digging his fingernails into his palms and pressing his fists against the carpet.

He kept his eyes on Geralt’s face as he worked himself. When Geralt concentrated –usually on a game or on cutting veggies in the kitchen—his tongue would peek out between his lips as it was now. Jaskier loved it. Geralt’s breathing picked up, hitching between soft grunts. Jaskier braced himself, sticking his tongue out as far as he could.

Geralt came with a groan, fist working quickly to wring out every last drop. He relaxed as soon as he was finished, and Jaskier moved to lick up the drops that had missed his mouth. He dutifully cleaned them both up. He was sure there was a drop of cum stuck to his chin where he couldn’t reach, but he didn’t care. He tipped his head against Geralt’s thigh, watching him come down and pressing kisses to his feverish skin.

Geralt dragged a hand over his own face before looking back at Jaskier. That soft expression was back again as he wiped that drop of cum from Jaskier’s chin. When he spoke, his voice was equal parts rough and reverent. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Jaskier smothered a smile against Geralt’s hip, shivering as his lover’s hands stroked his hair back. “Some horribly dirty things, I’m afraid.”

Geralt laughed. His hand tightened on the back of Jaskier’s neck to pull him up. He dragged Jaskier on top of him, kissing the taste of his own cum from Jaskier’s pliant mouth. Jaskier’s legs landed on either side of Geralt’s, straddling him. The position brought his aching dick to press against Geralt’s belly, which he grinded against as soon as he made that discovery.

A sharp slap on his hip made him freeze with a whine. 

“You’d think you would have gotten the hint by now,” Geralt said. He kissed Jaskier again before pulling back to study him, from his red cheeks to his trembling thighs. “We’ll have to hammer it into you somehow.” He tilted his head, seeming to consider something before that feral grin returned. “Hmm.”

Before Jaskier could even be worried by that look on his face, Geralt pressed him down so he fell on his elbows on the bed beside him. One of his legs moved so he knelt perpendicular to Geralt, who still sat at the edge of the bed. He smoothed one hand over Jaskier’s exposed ass, the other holding him steady.

“Much better.” Jaskier couldn’t see his face, but Geralt sounded pleased with their new position, Jaskier’s vulnerable backside right in front of him.

He thought he ought to apologize –for what, he wasn’t quite sure—but another slap from Geralt stopped him. He immediately rubbed the sting away, the heating flesh giving under his hand.

“Maybe we’ll have to actually hammer this into you, hmm?” Another slap, and Jaskier arched back into it with a gasp. A small part of him laughed at the horrible pun, but the rest of him nodded eagerly, willing to let Geralt do anything to him so long as he kept touching him.

Another slap landed, in the same spot as the last. Jaskier knew the skin would be turning red. He couldn’t think past the fog gathering in his head. The only thing that broke through was another slap, then another, and another. He quickly lost count, his brain happily turning off knowing Geralt would never go too far. The blows all blended into one another, until all he knew was pain and arousal and the heat of Geralt’s steading hand against his flank.

He felt wetness on his face but didn’t think to do anything about it other than lower himself face-first onto the bedspread. The blows stop suddenly, Geralt’s hand resting lightly on his ass, not rubbing. Just there, grounding him. “Feel good, baby?”

It didn’t make sense, but he _did_. He knew his ass hurt, his leg was cramping from keeping the position, one of his arms was asleep from the elbow down, but god it felt magical. 

Geralt usually had that effect on him.

“S’good,” he murmured, knowing Geralt needed verbal confirmation. 

“Good,” Geralt said. A peculiar but familiar sensation wormed its way into Jaskier’s perception: a wet finger circling his hole. He wasn’t sure when Geralt had leaned over to retrieve the lube, and frankly, he didn’t care. The gentle touch after the rough handling made his head spin. He let out an uncategorizable noise in response. Geralt chuckled. “Ready?”

Jaskier hadn’t even finished nodding when Geralt pushed that finger in. It was an easy slide despite a few days without heavy use, a combination of a liberal amount of lube and Jaskier’s utterly relaxed state. Geralt kept his movements slow, easing the finger in and out for what felt like days before he pulled away to add more lube. Jaskier knew he was whining again but he didn’t care.

Geralt slid two fingers in, probing, and Jaskier’s mouth fell open against the duvet. It was kind of stupid, how much he had missed the feeling of something –of _Geralt_ —inside him after only four days. God, he was insatiable, wasn’t he?

That thought had barely touched his brain before Geralt’s fingers pressed just right and Jaskier tried to scramble away. Lost in the sensations as he was, his body hadn’t been prepared for the direct stimulation to his prostate. Geralt shifted, pressing Jaskier closer to the bed before flinging a leg over him. He crooked one of Jaskier’s legs up to keep him open while he sat on the other leg, straight out behind him to keep him still. One hand pressed into the small of Jaskier’s back to keep him from squirming away while the other continued working inside him.

Jaskier’s breath hitched, shoulders quaking. His hands scrambled against the bedspread, grasping for some semblance of control. A small corner of Jaskier’s brain that was still functioning registered the heat of Geralt’s hardening cock on the back of his leg, grinding with each torturous stroke of his fingers inside Jaskier. He eased off the pressure on his prostate just as Jaskier thought he was going to burst into flames. He took in deep breaths, eyes blinking open as the bed shifted.

Geralt had planted his free hand on the bed beside his head, leaning over him while the other hand slipped a third finger into Jaskier’s hole. He let out a strained breath as he held Geralt’s eyes, cheek plastered to the bed. “There we go,” Geralt said, voice soft and teasing. He twisted his fingers and Jaskier tensed to keep from squirming again. “Not thinking about your dick at all right now, are you baby?”

Jaskier moaned out a sound that could loosely be interpreted as a “no.”

“Still doing good?”

Jaskier nodded against the duvet, not caring about how ruffled his hair was becoming. “Please.”

“Please?” Geralt’s fingers were still moving slowly, stretching and teasing in the same measure. He didn’t seem to be in any rush.

“Please,” Jaskier repeated. He wanted to reach back to touch his boyfriend, to grasp the hand beside his head, but he knew better. He knotted his fingers in the covers. “Need you. Inside. Geralt. Please.”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier watched the muscles in his shoulder work with the continued motion of his hand. He pulled his hands under himself for comfort. “Please Geralt. Been so good, please.”

“Okay, my love.” Geralt finally dipped down to kiss him, still grinding his hard cock into the back of Jaskier’s leg. Jaskier didn’t care about the strain on his neck as he turned into his lover, or the growing cramp in the leg that had been hitched up. He pushed himself up into the kiss just in time for Geralt to pull back, mouth and fingers retreating all at once. Jaskier whined, dropping onto his face again.

Geralt crawled off him and left the bed. Jaskier missed the heat of him, but took the opportunity to straighten his leg to lay fully on his front. He buried his face in his arms when the light in the bedroom proved to be too much. He desperately wanted to churn his hips against the bed for some kind of friction but held himself still.

He was alone for what felt like hours before the bed dipped again. A firm hand on his hip urged him to turn onto his back. He squinted up at Geralt, noticing the light was dimmer now. He relaxed just knowing how well Geralt would take care of him. 

Strong hands spread Jaskier’s legs and Geralt crawled between them. He bent down to kiss him again, slipping his hands up Jaskier’s arms to encourage him to touch him back. Jaskier gripped Geralt’s arms, thankful for something to hold onto. He opened his mouth to his lover’s kiss, letting him do all the work. He planted his feet on the bed to take the pressure off his ass –still stinging from the spanking—and gave himself over to the intimacy of their position. 

“You ready for me, baby?” Geralt murmured against his lips. 

He nodded, hands slipping up Geralt’s arms to hold his face between his hands. His mind was coming back to him, but he was still overwhelmed by the ongoing orgasm denial and the feeling of Geralt’s body pressed against his. “Need you inside me, love.”

Geralt pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. He propped himself up on one arm as the other snaked down to guide his dick into Jaskier.

He gasped at the feeling of the head of his lover’s cock against his well-stretched hole. As torturous as the fingering had been, he was thankful for it now. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together if Geralt had gone in with minimal preparation. He held his breath when Geralt pressed in, slower than Jaskier could ever remember him going. “Please not so slow, Ger. I can’t take it.”

Geralt kissed his boyfriend’s tear-stained cheek and obliged, filling him in one smooth thrust that left him arching. Jaskier felt more kisses pressed against his Adam’s apple and the hollow of his throat as he stretched, reveling in the feeling of being so full. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the stretch of Geralt’s cock inside him. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to.

“That’s it,” Geralt whispered. “So perfect for me, Jaskier. Always so gorgeous when you take me.”

Jaskier found himself babbling through tears as Geralt picked up a steady pace, his nerves frayed by the sensations. “You feel so good, Ger, so big. Want you in me all the time. Was hell the last few days. Thought you didn’t want me.”

“Never,” Geralt grunted, tipping Jaskier’s head back down to kiss him on the lips. “I could never not want you.”

“Love you,” Jaskier gasped. “I love you so much, Geralt, so—” He arched as Geralt’s thrusts suddenly had him knocking against his prostate, the sensation sending him gasping for breath.

“Love you more.” Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s chest, scratching his skin with his stubble. “Wanna fill you up so good. Want you to feel me for days.”

“Please, please.” Jaskier dug his fingers into Geralt’s sweaty hair, marveling at the beautiful man in his arms. “Want you to feel good. I want to feel you cum. Want to feel it dripping out of me. To know I’m yours. You’re mine.”

Geralt lifted his head to look at Jaskier again, thrusts losing their rhythm, brow furrowed and face red. He was as gorgeous as Jaskier had ever seen him. “Mine,” he growled. His lips crashed against Jaskier’s once more as his hips twitched. The slap of skin-on-skin was deafening, Geralt’s hipbones digging into Jaskier’s sore ass. He could only gasp open-mouthed into the kiss as Geralt spilled his cum inside Jaskier. He felt the heat of it and the head of Geralt’s cock twitching against his abused prostate. 

Geralt collapsed on his elbows on top of Jaskier, still kissing him and grunting softly between breaths. The heat between them gradually dissipated as Geralt’s cock softened and slipped out of Jaskier, making both of them hiss. Jaskier watched absently as his lover reached across the bed for something that had gotten caught in the covers. It was a butt plug, one of their regulars: fairly short but thick, and bright blue. A personal favorite of Jaskier’s because of how perfectly it kept him open for his lover, and because Geralt said it matched Jaskier’s eyes. Fucking sap.

Jaskier smiled, lifting his legs up to give Geralt better access, clenching down to try and keep his boyfriend’s cum inside him. Some slipped out, but neither of them minded. It just gave Geralt the excuse to wipe it up with his fingers and push it back into him. He eased the plug in until Jaskier’s hole clenched around the slender end, holding it inside. Geralt rested his hand over it, helping Jaskier drop his legs as they both reveled in the silence.

“Do you want to keep going?” Geralt asked. His voice was nearly a whisper, but that was stupid since it was just the two of them.

Nonetheless, Jaskier whispered back. “Yeah. Want to make you cum again. But.” He giggled a little. “I think I need a breather.”

“I know I do.” Geralt shifted to lay on his back beside him, both of them still panting. Geralt twined his fingers with Jaskier’s. “Let’s rest a bit, then I’ll get snacks and water.”

“Deal.” Jaskier turned to press his face into Geralt’s shoulder, careful not to jostle the plug too much or brush his sensitive cock against anything.

Geralt noticed his caution. “How’s your dick?”

Jaskier snorted. “Fine, no thanks to you.”

“You agreed to it!”

“Don’t get defensive.” Jaskier bit Geralt’s shoulder just to be a pest, winding an arm around his chest. “I feel good. Sensitive, but good. I really want to cum.”

“We have a deal.”

Jaskier pouted. “I know.” His eyes strayed down to where Geralt’s cock lay against his stomach, soft and wet. “How long?”

Geralt hummed. Then they were both staring in contemplation at his flaccid dick. Jaskier suddenly found it very funny and fell into a fit of giggles. Geralt’s arm wound around his shoulders and pulled him closer, smothering his laughter against his sweaty pectorals. “You’re such a child,” Geralt said.

“Gross.”

Geralt stuck his tongue out at him, which meant Jaskier had to try to bite it. Obviously. That led to them making out for a while, content just to be with each other. After a few minutes, Geralt tipped his forehead against Jaskier’s, their noses bumping messily.

“I love when you tell me you love me while I’m fucking you.”

Jaskier grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Geralt looked away, a blush stealing its way across his cheeks. Jaskier peppered kisses on his cheeks when he saw it. “Makes me know you mean it.”

“I do mean it,” Jaskier said. “All the time. Not just when you’re making me see stars with that magnificent cock of yours.”

Geralt smiled, not the feral grin from before, but the soft, vulnerable smile only Jaskier could cause. “Let me go get us some snacks and I’ll make you tell me you love me until your throat’s raw.”

Jaskier shivered, renewed lust ringing through him as Geralt slipped from his arms. He watched his lover slip his boxers back on, admiring the way his sweaty skin shone in the low light. “Don’t be gone too long. Who knows what I might get up to while you’re gone?” His hand slipped between his legs to toy with the end of the plug, just to prove his point.

Geralt shot him an unimpressed look, but the twitching in his boxers made it less effective.

Jaskier fell back on the bed when Geralt left for the kitchen. He stretched, reveling in the aches all over. Every inch of his body felt pampered and well-used. The fuzzy headspace the spanking put him in was gone but the drag of his fingernails over the tender flesh made him shudder in the best way.

He listened to Geralt puttering around the kitchen, the fridge opening and shutting, the sink running. Shortly after, he came back into the bedroom with some apples and water bottles. He shut the door with an odd look on his face. Jaskier sat up. “What’s wrong, love?”

Geralt opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His cheeks were red again, and he refused to meet Jaskier’s eye. 

“Are you okay, Geralt?” He sat up on his knees, reaching out to his distressed boyfriend.

“I—we—”

Geralt had come close enough to touch, so Jaskier took the snacks and set them aside to run his hands up his lover’s chest. “It’s alright, darling. You’re okay. What’s wrong?”

Amber eyes finally slipped to his. “I forgot to turn off the stream.”

Jaskier blinked. “Forgot to…” 

Oh.

_Oh._

“Oh,” Jaskier breathed. “Right.”

Geralt nodded, looking away again.

“Well,” Jaskier said. “Did they see anything?”

“Just me in my underwear,” Geralt said, a little relieved. “But Jask—the comments… They heard everything, love.”

“Everything?”

Geralt nodded again, watching Jaskier as if he was about to pack his bags and leave forever. 

Instead of that, though, Jaskier burst into laughter.

Geralt watched in confusion and mortification as Jaskier rolled on the bed, cackling until he started wincing at the plug shifting inside him. Jaskier took a few calming breaths, reaching back out to his perplexed lover between giggles. 

“Oh Geralt,” he said. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t funny. Oh.” He pulled his older lover onto the bed, chuckling all the while. “I’m sorry. It is a little funny, though, isn’t it? Now they have proof that you have hot, kinky sex with your darling boyfriend.”

After a few moments, Geralt’s expression melted from bewilderment to bemusement. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist. Jaskier poked at him until he huffed out a laugh. “Fine. It’s a little funny.”

“Ha!” Jaskier said, sticking a triumphant finger in his face. 

Geralt grabbed the finger, glaring at him only half-seriously. “I’m expecting some very upset phone calls from my sponsors.”

“Aww,” Jaskier cooed. He made a kissy face at Geralt, pulling his finger free to pinch his boyfriend’s cheek. “Let me talk to them, baby. I’ll show them the charm that got you so riled up.”

“You’re not flirting with my sponsors, Jaskier.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jaskier said, pulling away to collect their snacks. He cracked open one of the bottles of water and reclined onto the pillows, sipping delicately. Geralt settled next to him, brooding into the apple he’d picked for himself. Jaskier nudged him with his foot. “Hey. It’ll be fine. You didn’t do anything against your contract. You’ll be okay. If anything, this should boost your ratings. I know _my_ fans love you. Those pictures you took were some of my best in weeks. I got a few dozen new donors just for that one. If I tell them they could get an audio-only peep show on your channel, they’d subscribe.”

Geralt snorted. “Drink your water.”

Jaskier grinned and did as he was told.

They finished their snacks, and instead of letting Geralt up to get a rag to clean up their sticky fingers from the apples, Jaskier took it upon himself to clean them both up with his tongue. If he claimed Geralt had apple juice on his chest, who would blame him?

As Jaskier was nosing his way closer to his boxers, Geralt stopped him with a hand on the back of his neck. “Geralt,” he whined in protest. He let Geralt manhandle him back against the pillows, pouting the whole way.

“You keep forgetting this is your punishment, Jaskier. Quit pretending you have any kind of control here.”

“Fine.” Jaskier crossed his arms, ignoring the way his cock twitched at Geralt’s words. “Do whatever you want with me.”

Geralt sat up on his knees, considering the brunet beside him like he didn’t already know exactly what he wanted. He made sure the lube was in reach before tipping his chin at the foot of the bed. “Go stand over there.”

Jaskier frowned but obeyed, standing on wobbly legs as Geralt shifted to sit with his legs spread against the pillows. The full length of the bed stretched between them. Jaskier knew he probably looked like a puppy someone had left out in the rain, but he couldn’t help it. Geralt was so far away, not touching him, not paying attention to him. It wasn’t fair. He opened his mouth to ask for something, anything, but Geralt cut him off.

“Since it’s your hands that got you in trouble,” Geralt said. He leaned against the headboard, taking his cock in hand. “We’ll make sure they don’t get in the way. Go find something for me to tie you up with.”

Jaskier let out an unintelligible grunt, jerking into action. He dropped to his knees and reached under the bed where their special toy box was hidden. He popped the lid and dug around its contents, pushing aside vibrators and rope until he found what he was looking for: a pair of padded leather cuffs. They were his favorite, without a doubt. Every time they used them, he relished the pressure against his wrists, keeping him in place. He shut the box, kicked it gracelessly back under the bed, and presented them to Geralt, who smirked at his choice.

“Good,” he said. “Crawl up here with me. Face the end of the bed and hold your hands behind your back.” Jaskier moved immediately and moved into the position Geralt asked, dropping the cuffs onto the bed between Geralt’s legs.

Geralt barely moved out of his position to put the cuffs on Jaskier. He dragged his hands up and down his newly bound arms once they were secure. His hands then strayed to his ass, the stinging in his ass reduced to a numb tingling, and tapped his thumb against the end of the plug. Jaskier jolted. 

Geralt chuckled at his reaction. “Easy there, Jask. We’re almost there.” He slapped Jaskier’s ass again, much gentler than before. “Crawl back to the end of the bed. Kneel there. You can watch but you can’t touch.”

Jaskier shuffled on his knees to the end of the bed, turning to face his lover once he was there. Geralt was steadily stroking his cock, almost fully hard now. Jaskier shocked himself by asking, “How does it feel?”

“It’s more than I’m used to,” Geralt said. His eyes bore into Jaskier as he kept stroking himself, spread thighs tensing. “You’ve been so good to me Jaskier. We’re almost done. There’s one last thing I want from you before you can cum.”

Eyes fixed on Geralt’s cock, Jaskier said, “Anything.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Jaskier’s gaze snapped up to Geralt’s face, hips twitching forward without his permission. “Really?”

Geralt nodded, reaching out for the lube again and coating his fingers before pressing them against his hole, just barely visible between his legs. He spread them further, and Jaskier was grateful for the better view. Geralt’s fingers rubbed circles around his hole, not pressing in. “I know you love it when you get that perfect cock in my ass.” Geralt slipped one finger in, tipping his head back at the feeling of it. “I’m gonna need something more than just your mouth or ass to get me off this time.”

“Please.”

Geralt smirked at Jaskier, moving his finger in and out until he felt comfortable enough to add a second. He groaned at the feeling.

Jaskier was losing his mind. He usually bottomed, since Geralt often got overwhelmed with too much pressure to his prostate, and they both generally preferred Geralt bossing Jaskier around. He’d only topped Geralt a handful of times since they’d gotten together, and each time was seared into his memory. The first time was especially memorable. Geralt let Jaskier finger him open early one morning after Jaskier’s ass had been too worn out the night before to handle any penetration. The image of him under Jaskier, pillow creases on his cheek and hair wild with sleep and sex, was Jaskier’s brain’s screensaver.

A groan tore through his reverie. Geralt was now at three fingers and judging by the flush working its way up his chest from his pulsing cock, he had found his prostate. Jaskier watched his eyes roll at the feeling. He let out an involuntary moan at the sight. Geralt cracked an eye open and smirked at him again. “Enjoying the view?”

Jaskier huffed, dropping his head and looking up at Geralt through his lashes. “You have no idea.”

“Not so bad from here, either,” Geralt said. His eyes flashed down to Jaskier’s cock straining against the ring holding him captive. 

“Want to do something about it?”

Jaskier blinked, and before he could fully process what had happened, he was on his back, bound hands crushed between his body and the pillows. Geralt was straddling him, ass rubbing against him. Jaskier arched instinctively, trying to bury himself in the heat he knew was waiting for him. Geralt planted a hand on his chest and uncapped the lube to drizzle over Jaskier’s cock. He hissed at the sudden cold, then again at the friction of Geralt’s hand rubbing it in. It seemed like years since his dick had seen any action, and it was heavenly. 

Then his cock was being rubbed against Geralt’s slicked hole, the friction making his hips twitch up. “Oh, Geralt, love. Please, I can’t wait anymore.”

Without another word, Geralt sunk down. Jaskier was certain he blacked out for a moment. 

The heat and pressure were divine. His eyes were rolling, arms struggling to get free. He wanted to lock his hands around Geralt’s hips and keep him from ever leaving. He could die in that moment and be perfectly content.

Then Geralt was shifting, moving, lifting himself up a few inches before coming down again, and Jaskier could no longer control the noises coming out of him. He was sure he was begging, but he couldn’t process anything he was saying.

He peeled his eyes open, unwilling to miss even one second of Geralt riding him. He knew, objectively, that Geralt’s hip control was otherworldly, what with all the working out and whatnot. He’d been on the receiving end of that hip control many times. But being on this end, watching and feeling Geralt roll Jaskier’s cock in and out of his tight hole… Jaskier was ascending. The play of his muscles as he moved was mesmerizing. He wanted to lick every inch of him. Instead, he had to lay there and let Geralt do all the work.

Geralt braced both hands on Jaskier’s stomach for balance, working himself harder and deeper. He was panting, little noises escaping him with every thrust. He stared into Jaskier’s face, watching him struggle.

“Geralt, can I—my hands, can I please—” 

“No,” he said sternly, sinking down into a quick grind that had both of them grinding. “This is what you get for misbehaving. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll do this again and let you run those hands all over me. Maybe I’ll let you turn me over and pound into me the way I know you want to.”

Jaskier was gasping again, thrashing fruitlessly to get his hands free. He just wanted to touch Geralt, to kiss him, to hold him, to—

“I know, baby,” Geralt said. “I want you to touch me too. But you know the rules.” 

Jaskier let out a sob, dropping his head back into the pillows in frustration. Compromising, he dug his heels into the bed and thrust up, interrupting Geralt mid-stride. Geralt grunted happily, gripping him tighter. They began moving together as the heat between them built.

A few minutes after getting into a good rhythm, Geralt suddenly pulled off.

“No!” Jaskier groaned. His hips jackknifed up to try and get Geralt back on him. Instead, he got a hand around the base of his cock, working the ring free. “What—what are you doing?”

Geralt flung the cock ring away and sunk back down on him. Jaskier tensed, fists clenching, fighting the urge to finally cum. “Wait until I tell you to,” Geralt said, breathless. “You remember the deal”

Jaskier nodded, jaw tightening. Geralt began riding him again, the pleasure all-consuming. He was thankful for the hand stroking Geralt’s cock, hoping that meant he was close. And if he was close, that meant Jaskier would be able to cum soon too. God, he was so close, he could feel it building. He felt Geralt tightening around him, both of them ready to spill—

Geralt jerked up, pulling off of Jaskier again to stroke himself off with fervor. Jaskier was whining, near tears again as Geralt groaned and came all over Jaskier’s belly. There wasn’t as much cum as the first two, and he was too sensitive to keep contact any longer as soon as he was done.

“Geralt please, sir, please!” Jaskier keened, watching him come down quickly. “Sir, please let me cum, I can’t—”

Geralt gripped his hips and rolled them so quickly Jaskier’s head was spinning. He settled Jaskier on his chest, wrapping a hand around his red, straining cock. Jaskier looked pleadingly down at him, hands twisting behind him. Geralt’s other hand slipped between his legs, fondling the plug he’d almost forgotten was there. 

Geralt’s hands moved in tandem, one working the plug against Jaskier’s prostate, the other (the one still slick with his own cum) stroking Jaskier firmly. Jaskier was whimpering and shifting, using all his willpower to keep from cumming.

“Sir, sir, sir, please,” he wailed, doubling over Geralt’s fist on his cock. That only shifted the plug deeper inside him, so he sat up straight again, eyes clenched shut. “Geralt, sir, please, I need to cum, I need to cum. I’m gonna cum, sir, can I please—”

“Cum for me Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s eyes flew open, looking at Geralt to make sure he was serious. Geralt looked up at him with that feral grin once more, his fist speeding up as he twisted the plug against Jaskier’s prostate.

Jaskier gasped when he came, unable to make any noise as all the air left his lungs. The shock of orgasm after so long without relief brought tears to his eyes again. He was shaking, legs weakening and twitching around Geralt’s middle as his cum spilled between Geralt’s fingers longer than he was used to. Finally, he grit out a groan of relief, shoulders sagging as his body quaked in aftershocks. Geralt kept his hand firmly around Jaskier’s cock though, blessedly leaving the plug alone as his body hungrily clenched around it. The continued stimulation on his cock made him tense again.

“Geralt, I don’t—oh wow, ungh.” He swallowed thickly, sensations rushing through him. Geralt’s free hand was brushing up his thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His voice crept up in pitch as his cock became oversensitized. “Geralt, please, stop.”

“Say it again.”

Jaskier let out a confused noise. Geralt twisted his fist around the head of his cock on the upstroke, and he jerked, yelping and trying to get away without the use of his arms. Geralt’s hand clamped down around the flesh of his leg, keeping him in place. “Say what? Geralt! I don’t know what you’re—”

“Call me sir again.”

Jaskier’s jaw fell open around a high-pitched moan at the words and the hand still working his overstimulated dick. “Sir, please. Please stop sir, it’s too much.”

With one last dig of his thumb into the head of Jaskier’s cock, Geralt released him, wiping both of their cum off on Jaskier’s thigh. At the relief of no longer being touched, Jaskier collapsed, burying his face in the pillows beside his lover’s head.

Geralt chuckled, sliding his hands up his thighs, sending shivers up his sides. “Want the plug out?”

“Yes, please.”

Geralt eased the plug out gently, attentive to the twitches of Jaskier’s body as it moved. He threw it in the same general direction he’d tossed the cock ring. Arms wrapped around Jaskier’s back, he rolled them onto their sides, mindful of the cum running down his boyfriend’s leg. He hiked one of Jaskier’s legs over his hip to keep the cum from spilling down onto the bed. Jaskier let out a grunt of thanks, eyes already shut and drifting toward sleep. 

“Anything hurt, sweetheart?” he asked, running his hands down Jaskier’s side soothingly.

“No,” Jaskier muttered. “Perfect.”

Geralt grinned and pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s hair. “Yes, you are.”

“Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He slid his hand down to run through the cum slipping out of Jaskier’s hole.

Jaskier slapped his hand away. “Oh, sweet heavens. Let me sleep!”

Geralt held him closer. “Love you.”

Tired and giddy, Jaskier tipped his head up to kiss Geralt’s chin. “Love you too, you bastard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @kayte_overmoon on Twitter

**Author's Note:**

> Subscribe for part two.
> 
> @kayte_overmoon on Twitter


End file.
